Coffee and the Ragnarok
by aph-iceland
Summary: When Lukas meets a boy at the nearby public school by the name of Mathias, he hardly anticipates liking him, let alone inviting him for coffee at his favorite cafe; after all, someone as punk as him can't be seen with a boy from the local private school, right? (Punk!NorwayxNerd!Denmark)


_Hey! This is my first story on this account; this particular fanfiction is based on picturesquegoddess' AU. I plan to make this a multichapter fanfiction, and admittedly this chapter is rather short, but I hope to make them longer later on!_

_I hope you enjoy it; rate and review? -vo_

* * *

><p>Despite his appearance, there were not many things Lukas genuinely disliked.<p>

He tolerated the other students who attended his school. He accepted that he should probably attend his classes more if he didn't want to fail, and the fact that his smoking habit would probably kill him one day. None of these things particularly bothered him; they were unavoidable if he continued his current way of existing, and to be frank, he quite enjoyed his routine.

The Norwegian let out a long, vaguely irritated sigh, stubbing out his cigarette and opening a window as his eyes drifted to the small alarm clock that sat on his bedside. It was almost four in the afternoon, and that mean that soon the boys from the private school down the road would be let out of what he fondly called 'Niflheim'. Well, there were certainly teachers he could imagine chewing on the corpses of the students who went there like dragons, so Lukas decided it fit the entire situation quite well.

Nevertheless, he had to get down there and sell the weed he got his hands on. Personally, he just preferred cigarettes, but if he didn't sell it, he'd smoke it. He could definitely use the money, though, so as Lukas got up and turned to face his bed, he made a mental note to perhaps stick around a little longer than usual to try and sell it. Great, more time for those boys to gawk at him. The teenager knelt down and plucked a small paper bag from under his mattress to put in his jacket, then popped a mint in his mouth to conceal the smell of smoke before opening the door to his room and stepping into the hallway.

"Lukas, you smell like smoke." Almost the exact moment he stepped out of his bedroom, the dry voice of his little brother suddenly interrupted Lukas' thought pattern, and he turned and narrowed his eyes at Hrafn. The boy was fifteen now, only four years younger than him, but it felt like a lifetime, and not to mention he was more annoying than anyone else he'd ever met (an exaggeration, but it made him feel better about it).

"I know, that's why I ate a mint." He snapped, and Hrafn just rolled his eyes, moving his headphones down so they sat on his shoulders.

"You're not supposed to be smoking inside, mor said." Lukas snorted in distaste, and quickly noted Hrafn's face falling again. "But whatever. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come play Mario Karts."

"I have better things to do." With that, Lukas marched off down the hall, dearly hoping that his brother wouldn't tell his parents that he'd been smoking in his room again. Luckily for him, it seemed both his mother and father were out, and a quiet wave of relief went through his body. Thank Odin, he wouldn't have to navigate questions about his career and life and dammit. Hrafn had to bring that up.

Stepping out into the rather warm afternoon, Lukas adjusted his choker and glanced down the small street that his family lived on. It was your classic 'white picket fence' sort of place, the Norwegian observed to himself with a faint smirk. His tattoos and piercings stuck out like a sore thumb, but it wasn't like he cared. After all, he'd be out of this place soon enough, once he had enough money. That in mind, he began his amble down the street, pulling out his iPod from his pocket and putting a headphone in his ear as he turned the corner to begin the ten minute walk to the St Ive's Prepatory School for Boys. Even the name made him want to shudder, and at the thought of the stares from the boys he always received, Lukas was forced to take out another cigarette and light it. One or two drags later, he let out a noise of approval and continued on his way.

It wasn't too long later that he finally arrived at the neatly-trimmed bushes that made the fence of St Ive's up. They were tall enough that the students couldn't see over them unless they pushed through the branches, and the dark green plants spanned the entire border of the school. Lukas could just make out the brickwork of the building itself, neat and painted a pristine white. How they kept it white, he thought dimly, was beyond him. Nevertheless, the teenager continued forward a little more to get to the large gates of the place.'

Settling against a column, Lukas checked his watch. Sure enough, it was four pm, and the first of the students were beginning to trickle out of the place. A starched white shirt, black trousers and a deep purple blazer made up the uniform; it wasn't too bad, but actually having to wear that everyday was beyond Lukas. The only time he'd wear that was when someone dressed him when he was dead, the Norwegian thought dimly.

Finally, the rest of the boys began their slow trek out of the school, most chatting to someone next to them or absorbed in their phone. Lukas had some regular customers, though, so he quickly handed them their drugs and took the money as most of the school drifted to wherever they went after school. Some boarded, but he'd never made a mental note of who; usually they bought less of what he had to offer, so he didn't care. Maybe, the blond thought dryly to himself, he should start caring about something.

"Hey!" Lukas whipped around, forcing the money into his jacket pocket to hide it as his eyes narrowed defensively. Instead of being met with a teacher like he had expected, Lukas was instead met with one of the most attractive boys he'd ever seen walk out of that place. He was tall, and by Odin, he thought with a smirk, you could cut yourself on that jaw. Even so, he had a reputation to maintain, so he drew himself up with the blankest expression he could muster

"Do you want to buy something, or do you just get kicks out of scaring the shit out of people?" Lukas asked with his typical cold tone, but couldn't resist glancing down at the rest of this teenager. He was tall, taller than him, and had a shock of dark brown-blond hair that stood up like a rocket. Thick framed glasses sort of ruined what he could have been, though… Hmm, he didn't look like he smoked. Then again, who was he to judge?

"Uh, no." The taller boy's face twisted in confusion, and Lukas realised, with some level of disbelief, he genuinely didn't realise what a guy like him was doing outside a school like this. Nevertheless, he was happy to preserve his innocence for a little while longer if it meant he could ogle him for a while.

"Then what the hell _do_ you want?" The dry response came only seconds later, and seemed to bewilder the geeky-looking teenager even further. Aw, it was sort of cute.

"I'm Mathias!" He said suddenly, and Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"Wow." A moment of silence stretched out between the two, and Mathias plunged right back into talking, much to Lukas' amusement.

"Uh, I just… I'm studying Classical History, and I did a bit on the Ragnarok, and I've seen you around loads before and your tattoos are totally pictures of it! So I was wondering if I could have a look?" The question was weird, and suddenly, much to his own annoyance, Lukas felt his cheeks colour. Taking a quick drag of his cigarette to calm down, he took another good look at Mathias, trying to figure out whether he was being mocked. Mathias looked far too hopeful for that, so Lukas shrugged and dropped the cigarette butt on the footpath to crush under his heel. Well, if he did actually want to look at his tattoos, fine (even if that someone looked like a cross between a model and someone who stayed after school for fun).

"I actually have to go," he began, and seeing the other's face fall, continued hastily, "but if you are interested in looking at them, take me and get coffee tomorrow."

Now, that startled Mathias, and he shifted a bit, blinking.

"I'm not gay." Disappointing, Lukas thought dismally, but rolled his eyes.

"Did I say that you were?"

"Well, no, but you asked to get coffee-"

"Do you not like coffee?" Mathias ran his hand through his ridiculous hairdo, looking rather sheepishly to the side.

"Well, uh, yeah." Lukas nodded a bit, sending a mental curse to any of the parents that enforced the idea that two people couldn't get coffee together if they were guys without it being gay. Sure, Lukas was gay, and he wouldn't mind kissing this sort of weird geek, but that didn't mean it had to be taken like that.

"Good. I'll meet you at the Sol Cafe tomorrow, then?" A sheepish nod from the other student, and Lukas tucked his hands into his jeans before turning on his heel and marching down the street. A faint smile curled his lips as he walked away, and he couldn't help glancing back at Mathias. The boy was waving gleefully at him, and he rolled his eyes, if a little less bitterly.

Maybe he could care about him.


End file.
